I'm Dying and I Can't Live Without You (Five for Fighting)
by Reader's Inflammation
Summary: Person A of the OTP has been diagnosed with a terminal illness.


This was Cecil's fourth trip to the Night Vale hospital free clinic and his second round of bronchitis. Carlos was getting worried and suggested that they visit a respiratory specialist, but when they did that, all the doctor suggested was chronic bronchitis. Carlos wasn't so sure, considering that Cecil had also come down with pneumonia within the last few months.

Lately, their apartment has been a constant flutter of coughing and wheezing sounds, causing Carlos to stick by Cecil's side every last moment. Cecil's voice had started to go hoarse less than a month ago and Station Management had gotten involved, saying that he had to fix it or else they will have no choice but to fire him. That had really gotten Cecil up and moving towards the hospital.

Now they were here, in Dr. Teddy Williams's office in the hospital, listening to Cecil's persistent cough and his wheezing. About a week ago, Cecil had begun to cough up trace amounts of blood. It hadn't worried Cecil as much as it had Carlos, though, and the latter was almost made to drag Cecil to the specialist again when more and more began to come from his mouth during harsh coughing fits.

"Well, Cecil," Dr. Williams said, sitting down whilst keeping his eye on Cecil. "I'm afraid that you may have radon poisoning from Radon Canyon. It's not my first diagnosis, but, right now, it's my best one. Unfortunately, this means that we have to test for lung cancer since we cannot measure the amount of radon that you have been exposed to."

Carlos grabbed Cecil's hand and squeezed it tightly. Cecil smiled at Carlos and squeezed back. Turning back to Dr. Williams, Cecil said, "Alright, let's get those tests done, then."

That afternoon was filled with CTs and LDCTs, as well as chest X-rays, blood work, biopsies, bronchoscopies, and everything under the sun (as it seemed to Carlos). Cecil was made to come back a few weeks later in order to give time to Dr. Williams to read the results and formulate a prognosis.

It wasn't a good one.

"Cecil," Dr. Williams said with a hint of sadness in his tone. "I'm afraid that we are fairly certain that you were suffering from radon poisoning for a number of years. This has now developed into lung cancer, stage IV. You have epidermoid carcinoma, where tumors have formed in the lining of the bronchial tubes. This is why you've been so sick as of late."

Carlos was crying now. It had started out as just his eyes tearing up, but now he held his hand over his mouth, the other in Cecil's hand, and he had tears running down his cheeks. Cecil didn't notice until he looked at him after Dr. Williams had explained his diagnosis.

"Oh, Carlos, please don't cry. This isn't as bad as it could be," Cecil offered. Carlos's head shot up and his expression was vexed.

"'Not as bad as it could have been'?!" he exclaimed. "Cecil you have advanced lung cancer! That itself is pretty bad."

"I know," Cecil said, patting his hand on Carlos's. "But now we know and I still have a little while to live. It'll be alright."

Carlos let out a choked sob, but couldn't say anything else.

"Only a handful of people in Night Vale have ever died from radon poisoning," Cecil stated. "It's not exactly common and certainly not ever something that I worried about."

"That is true," Dr. Williams interjected. "But I'm afraid that you are going to be apart of them. There is no use in attempting any chemotherapy because of how far it has already progressed. If we were to look at the rest of your organs, we would most likely find the cancer in a few of them. Not to mention that it has already spread to both of your lungs and the fluid surrounding them."

Cecil nodded absentmindedly while Carlos began to not be able to hold in his cries anymore. He looked at Cecil who nodded at him, giving Carlos the go-ahead to practically bolt from the room, only to lean against the wall right outside of Cecil's room. Slowly, Carlos slid down into a sitting position and pulled out his cell phone.

"Dana? I need you to come to the hospital . . . right now. It's Cecil. He's—h—he needs you here. Okay, thanks. See you here."

Carlos hung up the phone and leaned his head back so that it hit the wall behind him. Before Carlos knew it, Dana had gotten to the hospital, found a nurse to bring her to Cecil's room, and was now kneeling in front of Carlos.

"Carlos, what is going on?" she asked bewildered.

"Cecil has Stage IV lung cancer," Carlos answered her slowly. Dana looked shocked and took a moment to process what she had just been told. Quietly, Dana stood up and walked into Cecil's room. Carlos made to stand up, as well, but found that he just couldn't and remained on the floor.

Both Dana and Cecil came out of the room a few minutes later and the latter sat down on the floor next to Carlos. He leaned forward and hugged him with all his strength. Carlos hugged back, burying his face into Cecil's shoulder.

They stayed like that for who-knows-how-long, but it didn't make Carlos feel any better. Eventually, Dana had to get both of them up and to the car. They both got into Dana's car for Carlos was too upset and distracted to drive. She drove them all back to Cecil and Carlos's apartment, the latter opening the front door with the code and their apartment door with his key. They all went inside, Cecil immediately going for the bathroom, Carlos the couch, and Dana the kitchen.

While Cecil stayed in the bathroom for quite a while, Dana made sandwiches for both the boys and herself and poured them all drinks. She set them down on the coffee table, the drinks on coasters, and then she sat down next to Carlos who hadn't moved since they had gotten home.

"You know it's gonna be okay, right?" Dana inquired quietly. Carlos did not move his eyes from staring at the opposite wall, but he gave a small nod of acknowledgment, not so much agreeance, though. Dana tried again.

"You guys can get through this," she pressed. "We all can." Now Carlos looked at her. His eyes were red and puffy and there were small, but visible bags under them. He spoke slowly and almost absentmindedly.

"But 'getting through it' means watching Cecil get worse and worse and worse until he just finally. . . ." Carlos trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, especially keen not to say any variation of the word "death". Dana sighed.

"Yeah, that is what it'll mean," she agreed. There was nothing else to say, which was good because Cecil reemerged from the bathroom, saving them a tense and awkward silence. He moved slowly to the couch, looking much worse for wear. His eyes, like Carlos's, showed evidence of crying, but it looked like Cecil had tried to cover it up for everyone's sakes.

Once he sat down next to Dana on the sofa, Cecil exclaimed, "Ooh sandwiches! My favourite. Thank you, Dana," and then dug into his sandwich. His words may have been positive and uplifting to some, but there was no cheerful tone to his voice. Nevertheless, he and Dana began to eat in silence, while Carlos leaned against the back of the couch, again staring at the wall opposite them.

After a couple minutes, Cecil looked over at Carlos, who didn't show him any acknowledgment, and then looked at Dana with sad eyes. Her expression was one of compassion; she knew that Cecil would want a minute alone. Luckily, she had finished her sandwich and picked up the plate to clear it in the kitchen.

Once Dana had left the room, Cecil said, "You haven't touched your food." Carlos sighed softly and closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to rub at them. Cecil bit his lip and then scooted over so that he was sitting right next to Carlos. He tried again.

"Carlos, please eat something."

The man in question looked at his boyfriend, who currently donned the saddest expression that Carlos had seen on anyone in a while. And it broke his heart. Carlos lunged forward and hugged Cecil excruciatingly tight. Cecil grunted at the sudden attack, but then leaned into the hug, wrapping his arms around Carlos defiantly. They seemed to stay like that forever.

Suddenly, Carlos whispered, without letting go, "I'm sorry, Cecil."

At this, Cecil pulled back, much to Carlos's chagrin. "Why are _you_ sorry, Carlos?"

Carlos gave Cecil a sad smile. "Because I'm not making this any easier for you and I should be. You need me right now and I'm just sitting here, not doing anything."

His boyfriend's words hurt Cecil's heart. "Oh, Carlos," he whispered sadly. "I don't need you to do anything that you can't right now. I know that this is going to be as hard on me as it is you and Dana."

"I will get us through this," Carlos told him defiantly, which made Cecil smile again. Cecil grabbed a small pillow from the other end of the sofa and put it on Carlos's lap, where he slowly laid down. Carlos smiled. They always did this when one was feeling upset or stressed. Carlos began running his fingers through Cecil's hair, relaxing him enough to get some sleep.

Looking up, Carlos saw Dana at the entrance to the living room. She gave him a smile and then she held her hand up to her ear, pinky and thumb outstretched with the others curled in, mouthing the word "tomorrow". Carlos nodded, understanding her meaning and gave her a small wave goodbye. Dana grabbed her keys from the counter and headed out the door.

Carlos smiled to himself and looked down at Cecil, who was sleeping very peacefully in his lap. They could definitely get through this. All of them; together.

* * *

Person A of the OTP has been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and Person B just can't take it and breaks down. Meanwhile, Person C is quietly holding everything together.


End file.
